


My Personal Hell

by kuhlaine



Category: Glee
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Sharing a Bed, oh my god there was only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25234474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuhlaine/pseuds/kuhlaine
Summary: Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson have never been able to get along, much less stand to be in the same room alone for more than 10 minutes. When their petty rivalry causes them to miss their bus back home to Lima after a glee club competition in Middle of Nowhere, Illinois, they'll have to do more than just spend 10 minutes alone together.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 33
Kudos: 180
Collections: Glee





	My Personal Hell

**Author's Note:**

> this is just some unbeta-ed word vomit tropey ramblings mashed together into a story because what else would I do on a Sunday night? hopefully you enjoy!

This is a nightmare.

“Try calling Mr. Schue again!” Kurt shouts at Blaine as he paces the hotel lobby.

“Why don’t you try calling him?” Blaine snaps. They both know it’s a pointless endeavor anyway – they’d had barely any service during the drive up to the hotel, he doubts they’ll be able to reach anyone from the glee club for another hour at least.

“I _already_ told you, I can’t call him because my phone died!” he shouts, earning them a nasty look from the front desk concierge.

“And whose fault is that?!” Blaine fights back in a harsh whisper.

Kurt resists the urge to scream – the last thing they need is to get arrested by hotel security for disorderly conduct. He throws himself onto a nearby couch and takes in several deep breaths, trying to calm himself down enough to think of a plan. There has to be a solution to this, he tells himself. They’re not going to be left stranded here in the middle of a town whose name he can’t even pronounce.

The glee club is bound to notice that they’re missing soon – though he’s honestly surprised they haven’t noticed already. Sure, everyone – Mr. Schue included – had become so absorbed by the latest New Directions scandal (the scandal being Quinn sneaking into Finn’s room last night, despite him telling Rachel the previous morning that he was open to the possibility of them getting back together) that they hadn’t noticed that Kurt and Blaine hadn’t boarded the bus back home to Lima, but they’ve got to notice soon.

Blaine has a mouth the size of his ego and an annoying habit of striking up singalongs at the worst possible time – it would be impossible for them not to notice that he’s missing. And if that doesn’t work, then Mercedes will notice that he’s gone, Kurt tells himself. He doesn’t trust Rachel or even his own stepbrother to notice, but Mercedes will quickly realize he’s not there when she realizes he’s not there to discuss the latest glee club gossip with her.

The fact that he’s currently stranded with Blaine Anderson, of all people, is particularly frustrating – but nothing he can’t handle. He was once locked in a dumpster for half a day, he can handle spending two, three hours tops, with someone he finds incredibly annoying.

“Look, we should try something else,” Blaine reasons, sitting on the couch opposite Kurt. “I can try asking the concierge to call Mr. Schue?”

“Great, because Mr. Schue will definitely answer a stranger’s phone call over a call from one of his students,” he snips. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh – but he’s upset, and if he’s being totally honest with himself, a little bit scared – and he can’t find the energy to extend any kindness towards the person who got him stuck in this mess in the first place.

“I’m just trying to help, Kurt!” Blaine replies, sounding just as exasperated as Kurt feels. “Feel free to share any groundbreaking ideas, because so far you’ve been doing a whole lot of judging and not a lot of thinking.” 

“I can’t think like this!” Kurt shouts, waving his arms at their surroundings. The lighting in the lobby is hurting his eyes, and if the radio plays that instrumental cover of “Hero” by Enrique Iglesias one more time he’s going to lose it. “Give me your room key,” Kurt demands, holding his hand out to Blaine.

“What? No,” he quickly protests, putting a hand over his pocket protectively. “Go to your own room.”

It takes everything in him not to scream. “Blaine,” he begins through gritted teeth. “For the last time, I don’t have a room key – we only had one and I was stupid enough to let Puck keep ours.” He knew that trusting Puck with the only key to their room was a lapse in judgement, but he never expected it him to come back and bite him in the ass this hard.

“Fine,” Blaine mutters, angrily handing over his room key. “I’m going to go talk to the concierge anyway.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, he still doesn’t see what good the concierge can do, but if it means he can have a moment to himself then so be it. He throws himself onto the bed in Blaine’s room, nose wrinkling at the overpowering scent of raspberries still lingering on the pillow – he knew Blaine was eccentric when it came to his hair but he never expected him to keep it gelled in his sleep.

He lets himself sit in silence until his heart has stopped racing. This is fine, everything is going to be fine. He’s stuck in a hotel five hours away from home with the most infuriating person he’s ever had the displeasure of knowing with no phone, no money, and none of his luggage. He takes a deep breath. Totally fine.

At the very least his dad will notice that he’s gone – granted, that might not be for several hours, and if he’s working late at the shop tonight he might not even notice until tomorrow and well… he’s going to try to not think about that outcome.

Kurt rolls his eyes as soon as Blaine comes into the room minutes later – annoyed by his mere presence.

“I got through to Mr. Schue!” he exclaims, half out of breath.

“Really?” Kurt asks suspiciously, propping himself up on his elbows.

“The connection was awful, so he cut out every over sentence, but I think I was able to make most of it out.” He pauses to take a drink from the water bottle on the TV stand, ignoring the annoyed look Kurt sends his way. “The driver isn’t letting them turn around – something about union rules, I think. But they’re going to send someone to come get us in the morning.”

Kurt’s stomach sinks. “Tomorrow?”

Blaine nods, lips pressed into a tight frown. “I asked if he could send someone earlier, but the call cut out before he could answer.”

Kurt tries not to dwell on the negatives. At least now everyone knows that they’re gone, and there’s a plan to get them back to Lima. Everything’s going to be fine.

“The concierge was pretty understanding about the whole thing,” Blaine continues. “She said we can stay here tonight, no extra charge to us or Mr. Schue.”

“Did she give you a new key for my room?” Kurt asks, perking up at the possibility of heading back to his own room for a hot shower at least. 

Blaine goes stiff, avoiding Kurt’s gaze as he replies. “She uh… she said we could have this room for the night. As in _just_ this one,” he confesses sheepishly.

“But this is a single room?” Kurt protests. His room at least had two beds (there was no way he was going to share both a room _and_ a bed with Puck).

“I mentioned that, but she couldn’t do much else,” he says with a shrug, clearly not as perturbed by this development as Kurt is.

This is no longer a nightmare, Kurt thinks to himself as he flies off of the bed, rubbing at his temples as he desperately wills away the headache he can feel coming on. This is his own personal hell. He and Blaine can hardly go fifteen minutes without bickering about something – how’re they supposed to survive an entire night? “This can’t be happening,” he mutters, more to himself than to Blaine.

“For the record, I’m not happy about this turn of events either,” Blaine sasses, crossing his arms and keeping his eyes trained on the ground.

“I would hope not,” Kurt replies with yet another roll of his eyes. “Considering you’re the reason we’re even in this position in the first place.”

“What?!” Blaine shouts incredulously, launching himself out of his seat. “If anyone is to blame for this mess it’s _you_ ,” he fights back.

“Right, because I spilled coffee all over my own shirt,” Kurt replies sarcastically.

“We’re here because you not only insisted on getting off the bus to change into a new shirt, but because you _also_ insisted on having me make sure no one was looking at you while you changed!” Blaine shouts, beginning to go red in the face.

“I made you come to make sure the bus didn’t leave without me! And clearly you couldn’t even do that!”

Blaine throws his hands up into the air, shaking his head as he pushes past Kurt to get to the door.

“Where are you going?” Kurt asks warily. He’s angry and upset, but his phone is still dead, which means Blaine is his only means of connection with the outside world.

“For a walk,” is all he says before slamming the door behind him, not even giving Kurt a chance to protest and argue that they should stick together.

Maybe it’s for the best, Kurt thinks with a sigh as he slumps back onto the bed. If it’ll keep them from strangling each other before they can be rescued, so be it.

* * *

Kurt’s half asleep by the time Blaine comes back. Try as he might, he can’t help but feel concerned when Blaine doesn’t come back after half an hour. As annoying as Blaine might be, Kurt really doesn’t want him to get abducted by a creep or eaten by a bear, or god knows what else. He does what he can to distract himself. He can’t figure out how the TV remote works, but manages to switch it on and land on a Property Brother’s marathon, which is just the kind of mindless television he needs right now.

He critiques the Scott brothers’ unfortunate styling choices to himself until he finally starts to feel tired – his own way of counting sheep. The only thing keeping him awake is the worry that Blaine might not return. He tells himself he’ll go looking for Blaine if he’s not back within the next ten minutes. One minute he’s blinking sleepily at the alarm clock, and the next Blaine is sitting on the bed beside him.

Kurt lets out a scream of terror, not immediately recognizing the person beside him as Blaine, jolting awake so suddenly he tumbles off of the side of the bed in the process.

Blaine quickly comes to his aid, flying off of the bed and kneeling down beside him. “Are you okay?!” he asks frantically, inspecting Kurt’s head to ensure he didn’t hit it on the bedside table on the way down.

“M’fine,” Kurt mumbles as he picks himself back up. His pride is more bruised than his body.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve said something, but you were asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you up,” he explains, helping Kurt get situated on the bed again.

“How very Edward Cullen of you,” Kurt says, brushing a bit of dust off of his jeans.

“What?”

“Watching me sleep.”

“I-I wasn’t—I wasn’t watching you sleep,” Blaine protests quickly, blushing an endearing shade of pink in the process. If he were any other person Kurt might even think it was cute.

“Sure you weren’t.”

He’s not sure why he says it. It’s not something he would usually say to Blaine – something toeing the line between snarky and flirty. He and Blaine hardly talk at all these days – their few conversations are limited to spats about whatever inconsequential thing is bothering them that day. He lets the silence sit between them for a moment before he speaks up again.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he admits shyly. There’s no use in staying upset now. “And not… you know. Kidnapped by an axe murderer,” he adds in an attempt at lightening the mood.

“Wouldn’t an axe murderer have murdered me? Why bother kidnapping me first?” he says with a snort.

Kurt shrugs. “For company. It must be lonely being an axe murderer in a town this dull.”

Blaine hums in amusement, but doesn’t dignify Kurt with a full-on laugh.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says after another moment of silence. “I was… nervous. Scared, I guess. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

Never in his life did Kurt think he would find himself apologizing to Blaine Anderson – but this day has already proven itself to be especially strange. And he really does feel sorry – he knows Blaine isn’t entirely to blame for this situation, he played his role too. And while he might not admit it, the way his stomach twisted uncomfortably every moment that Blaine was gone tells him that he doesn’t _really_ hate Blaine as much as he might claim to.

Blaine nods, giving Kurt a weak smile. “I’m sorry too,” he says, which Kurt certainly doesn’t anticipate. “I should’ve paid closer attention to the bus. But I… I… get flustered around you… sometimes,” he confesses slowly, uncharacteristically shy. He’s never seen Blaine – confident, boisterous, charming Blaine Anderson – nervous like this before. But he doesn’t let himself read too far into that.

Kurt gives Blaine a nod too – a silent acceptance of his apology. And then they fall back into silence, both of them turning their attention to the Scott brothers as they drone on about exposed brick walls.

* * *

“Is it something I did?” Blaine asks after they’ve sat through what feels like thousands of episodes of Property Brothers, his voice small. He hugs his knees to his chest when Kurt turns to look at him, making himself small under Kurt’s gaze.

“What?” Kurt’s brows furrow, trying to piece together what Blaine might mean.

“You… you’re so angry at me. All of the time. I’ve spent so much time trying to understand you and what I did to you but… I just don’t know. I’m sorry, for whatever it was. But I can’t be better if you don’t just tell me what I did wrong.” He sounds close to tears as he finally finishes, inhaling sharply and keeping his eyes, glossed over with tears, away from Kurt’s.

Kurt’s breath catches in his throat, unsure of what to say, or even what to feel. He can’t explain it, the way he feels about Blaine. It wasn’t immediate – there had been a time when Kurt had felt excited about Blaine, about what having someone like him at McKinley could mean for him. Blaine, who is loved by everyone who crosses his path, who is so incredibly talented without even trying at all. Blaine, who is the version of himself he sometimes wishes he could be.

Kurt loves who he is. He loves his voice, his style, his way of carrying himself – he loves every part of himself, even if sometimes the world tries to convince him that he needs to change. He loves that he has the courage to be who he is, even when he’s thrown into dumpsters and shoved into lockers simply because he’s himself.

And a part of him hates that Blaine gets to be himself without question. The same people who tear Kurt down and try to convince him that there’s something wrong with him – Karofsky, Azimio, Finn, even Mr. Schue – don’t have a problem with Blaine. He gets every solo he tries out for. He earns the love and admiration of the entire glee club within days of joining. He’s able to walk to class without looking over his shoulder. He gets the life Kurt works like hell for without even trying.

“You didn’t do anything,” Kurt whispers, waiting until Blaine peeks back up at him to continue. “You… you’re just so good at… well, everything. You’re just good at… life.”

Blaine looks confused, but at least doesn’t look like he seconds from tears.

“Life has never been easy for me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m not good at it or… or if I’m just not cut out for life in a place like Lima. But you are, and sometimes it looks like you’re not even trying. It’s stupid, I know. And petty, and childish, and whatever else you want to call it, to hold that against you. But… I guess I’m bad at handling my feelings too.” Kurt sucks in a deep gulp of air as he finishes, suddenly feeling like _he’s_ the one that’s going to break down into tears any second. It feels absolutely terrifying – he’s never been this open with someone before, and he never would’ve expected the person he’d finally open up to would be Blaine Anderson of all people. But this day has already terrified him in a number of ways – what’s one more moment of fear?

Blaine doesn’t reply – but Kurt doesn’t really expect him to. He puts his walls back up as soon as he can, sliding off of the bed and heading towards the couch. “I’m going to go get ready for b—”

But Blaine reaches out and takes his hand before he can finish. “I think you’re amazing.”

Kurt, stunned, doesn’t say anything – he’s not fully convinced he’s not still asleep.

“I try really hard to be myself every single day,” he continues. “I see you and how confident you are in everything that you are, and I try to do that too and stop worrying about what other people will think about me, but… a lot of the time I’m too scared to try. It’s easy to pretend to be someone that people like.”

He pauses, and Kurt realizes that Blaine is still holding his hand. He considers pulling it away, but finds that he doesn’t really want to. Blaine’s hand is soft and warm and comforting in his – it makes him feel safe.

“A part of me really wanted to… impress you, I guess,” Blaine admits with a humorless laugh. “And clearly I went about that the wrong way.”

“Why would you want to impress me?” Kurt asks with a raised brow, stepping in closer to the edge of the bed, still not pulling his hand back.

Blaine runs his thumb along the side of Kurt’s hand, goosebumps blossoming all the way down to his wrist in the wake of the simple touch. He shrugs, blinking up at Kurt with those unfairly long eyelashes.

“Because I think you’re pretty cool.”

Kurt can’t help but snort, shaking his head and biting back a laugh as he replies. “You think I’m cool?” he asks in disbelief.

Blaine laughs softly, finally letting go of Kurt’s hand, and Kurt tries to tell himself that he’s not disappointed when he does. “You’ve told me I have questionable taste on many occasions,” he reminds.

Kurt hums – it’s true, he’s not at all kindly called Blaine’s fashion sense and music preferences into question many, many times over the past several months. “I guess this can be an exception,” he admits in defeat with a cheeky smile.

Kurt takes a seat on the edge of the bed, still keeping a polite amount of distance between himself and Blaine. “You’re pretty cool too. In a really annoying way,” he teases good-naturedly, chest tightening for just a second when it looks like Blaine’s smile has turned into a frown. He’s ready to take it back, to apologize to Blaine for a second time in a single evening, but something even more unexpected happens.

Blaine kisses him.

And he doesn’t hate it.

It’s nice, actually. More than nice, if he’s being honest. Blaine’s lips are soft and taste like the coffee he spilled on Kurt that morning. It makes his stomach flutter – not in the ‘I’m going to be sick’ way, in the ‘oh my god this is what _this_ is supposed to feel like’ way. It reminds him of the way he felt when he first met Finn, of those misguided days of daydreaming about something that he knew would never come true. But sweeter, like the kind of thing he could lose himself in.

Blaine shifts away as soon as they pull apart. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he apologizes quickly, launching himself off of the bed in a huff.

This time it’s Kurt’s turn to reach out and take Blaine’s hand. He catches him, smiling when he turns to face him.

“Do you think we could do that again?” he asks, just the tiniest bit breathless.

Blaine is too stunned to answer, eyes wide as saucers and sparkling in the dim light of the room. But he doesn’t pull away. So, Kurt takes the leap of faith this time. And they kiss for a second time.

And a third time. And a fourth time.

And when they fall asleep on that single bed with their fingers intertwined in the space between them, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

And when they finally return to McKinley on Monday, interlocked hands swinging between them, they’re met with smiles and murmurs of ‘well, it’s about time.’


End file.
